Alice Meets the Red Queen

Alice who shrinks and grows, who changes and obliges until she doesn’t know who she is or what she is looking for. She thought she was trying to the White Rabbit, but why again was that? Because he had shiny pocket watch and shocked her daises off of her crown. Growing up, to be a woman. To have traveled down the rabbit hole and make it back from a wakeful death. To be alive within crowds of weeds, barely conscious of the light all around them.

You have been the red rose all along, sitting in the lap of the Red Queen. `Where do you come from?' said the Red Queen. `And where are you going? Look up, speak nicely, and don't twiddle your fingers all the time.' And the two of you ran without getting anywhere at all, blood pumping through her veins, blood running down her legs.

Burning light in the sky for nourishment, burning in the moon, and burning as death herself. The same light that dances so sweetly upon your face is the same light that burns bodies to ash. A moth in a thousand pieces, a life shattered by slip down the twisting tunnel, after the pocket watch glint. Through scrapes and amphetamines, starvation, and running time, catches the rabbit who will tell her who she is.

I see you through the looking glass, feeling your life run through mine. If you can’t feel it, I will transfer it to you. Red rose blood running from my lip, stinging with your thorned contradictions. Taste the blood in the shattering looking glass.